


Group Session

by Sed



Category: Tron (Movies), Tron: Betrayal
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-26
Updated: 2012-09-26
Packaged: 2017-11-15 02:16:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/522067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sed/pseuds/Sed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Flynn tries to help Clu work through his anger. Set pre-Betrayal, sort of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Group Session

**Author's Note:**

> This is my 30th posted Tron fanfic. Yaaaay~

“You sit there, Clu, and everyone else will sit in a semicircle around you.”  
  
“What does the semicircle accomplish?” Clu asked. He had his arms crossed over his chest, and a look of extreme irritation aimed directly at his user, who sat opposite the group.  
  
Flynn dragged a hand through his hair and shrugged. “It—just get in the chair, okay?”  
  
The other programs tried not to look at Clu, but he shot each a warning glare before sitting down, just to be thorough. He kept his arms tight against his chest, as though trying to ward off Flynn’s bizarre attempt at problem solving.  
  
“Alright, let’s start. Everyone stand up, one at a time. Introduce yourselves. I guess you should also say something that’s bothering you.”  
  
The programs looked between one another, and then all turned to the hapless bastard stuck sitting on the far right. He slumped down in his chair, pleading silently with Flynn to give him a pass.  
  
“Don’t worry, we’re all friends here,” Flynn said with a smile. It was an outright lie, and they all knew it.  
  
“I, uh,” the program began, sliding sideways out of the chair and standing with his shoulders hunched. “I’m—do I have to say my name?”  
  
Flynn just stared at him for a moment, almost like he was looking _past_ the program. Then he blinked and focused on his face. “What? Oh, I guess not. We can do this anonymously.”  
  
Clu scoffed. “That’s fair.”  
  
“So tell us something that’s bothering you,” Flynn directed at the program, ignoring Clu. His patient smile had returned.  
  
“Well, I suppose I don’t like all the new sentries around the city. I feel sort of like we’re p—uh, I’ll… sit down now.”  
  
Flynn turned to Clu, who had leaned forward in his seat to stare at the other program. “Clu, give it a rest. Let him open up.”  
  
“I didn’t say anything.”  
  
“You didn’t have to. Alright, we’ll move on. Next.”  
  
They went down the line, each program attempting to appease Flynn’s desire to feel like he was accomplishing something, while desperately trying to avoid ending up on the hit list Clu was undoubtedly composing. Finally they reached the center of the semicircle, and it was Clu’s turn to stand up and address his grievances.  
  
“I want to know what complaining about you—to you—is supposed to accomplish. That’s my first issue. I would also like to know why you felt the need to start a side project when your primary focus should be the Grid.” He paused. “And me.”  
  
Flynn took a moment to reply. “Side project?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.  
  
“You call him Sam.”  
  
“My son?”  
  
Clu nodded.  
  
“That’s—I mean, he’s my kid. What do you want me to do?” The pretense of a group therapy session seemed to have been cast aside for the moment, and the programs in attendance looked around uncomfortably as the focus narrowed to just Flynn and Clu.  
  
“Send him back wherever he came from.”  
  
Flynn shook his head and laughed, which only seemed to anger Clu further. “It doesn’t work like that. Look, we didn’t exactly _plan_ to have—”  
  
Clu put his arms out and shrugged. “So he was a mistake. Mistakes should be corrected.”  
  
“He’s not a program! I can’t just erase him, and I wouldn’t!”  
  
“How did you make him?”  
  
Flynn sputtered like he had been punched in the gut. He seemed to remember the other programs bearing witness to their conversation, and in that awkward moment grew a sense of discretion. “I’m not going to explain that now. Not here.”  
  
“I want details.”  
  
“No!”  
  
“Don’t leave anything out.”  
  
“I said no!” Flynn shouted, jumping up out of his chair.  
  
Clu smirked and crossed his arms again, leaning back with one ankle hooked over the opposite knee. “Look at how angry you are.”  
  
Flynn reached for the chair and turned it around, straddling the seat with his arms crossed over the back. He took a deep breath and looked at the program to Clu’s immediate left. “Your turn.”  
  
“I would rather not,” the program replied.  
  
“Oh, you don’t have a choice,” Clu said. “If I have to, _you_ have to.”  
  
The program looked at Clu for a moment before nodding and standing up to address Flynn and the group. “I don’t like the administrator. He’s overbearing and some of us feel that he thinks he’s better than us.”  
  
“That’s because I am better than you.”  
  
Flynn frowned and looked at his program. “Clu.”  
  
“I’m not going to lie to them.”  
  
That was it for Flynn; he stood up and pushed the chair away, throwing his arms in the air to signal his surrender. “I’m done. You guys can finish this up yourselves. I tried.” As he stormed out of the room, Flynn caught a glimpse of Clu grinning cruelly at the program to his left.  
  
Maybe group therapy wasn’t the best idea, after all.


End file.
